The Bar
by BookWorm37
Summary: Roughly based on Billy Joel's song, 'Piano Man'. Telling more would give it away. SJ COMPLETE Epilogue added.
1. Pretty Good Crowd For a Saturday

A/N: I have an obsession. It's called Billy Joel. The setting of this is based off his song 'Piano Man'.

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"John, I need a scotch, on the rocks for the guy in booth ten," the pretty waitress said with a smile to the bartender. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a messy bun, but her striking blue eyes contained a beauty nothing could hide. 

"Sure, Sammie," John said, getting the requested drink for the pretty waitress. He passed it to her with a smile, his brown eyes looking at her caringly.

"Thanks, John," Sammie whispered, blushing at his intense gaze. She went to give the drink to the man still in a suit from his day's work before going back up to the bar to talk with John. "Did you hear what's on the playing schedule for tonight, John?"

John shrugged, "Bill wouldn't tell me. Said it was something special. Some sort of surprise, I guess."

Sammie smiled slyly at the bartender, "Well, you do know that it's George's birthday today, right?"

John raised his eyebrows: he _hadn't_ known that, "It is? Ol' George never said anything to me about that!"

Sammie smiled, "Maybe if you stopped calling him 'Ol' George' you'd find out stuff like this. Man, John! I thought you used to be in the military."

At the look of pain that flashed across John's face, Sammie immediately felt horrible for her words, "I'm sorry, John. I didn't mean to say that."

John shrugged her off, "It's okay, Sammie." He attempted a grin, "Hey, I can't exactly change what's happened, can I?"

Sammie smiled warmly at him, "I guess you can't. Look, Bill's here."

Bill came up to the bar and sat down on a stool with a sigh, "Hey, John. Sammie."

Sammie was like a sister to all the men who worked at George's _The Hideout._ She was just so sweet (not to mention the only girl on the staff full of retired military officers). When she got the job two years before, she had been barely twenty-one and working her way through college, now she was almost done and adamant that she would stay in the town just to keep in touch with the 'boys'.

She frowned at the older man, "What's wrong, Bill?"

Bill shook his head, "Amelia left me."

"Oh, Bill," Sammie gave him a hug and for a brief second John was jealous of the other man. "I'm sorry."

"For an accountant named Paula."

John and Sammie shared a confused look before turning back to Bill and saying in unison, "_Paula_?"

Bill nodded, "Who knew, right? For the past twelve years I've been married to a lesbian! What a joke!"

Sammie gave him another hug while John poured him a shot of vodka.

"What is this, a get-together or a bar?" a voice asked from the doorway.

Sammie broke away from the group, going over to the man walking toward them, "Hey, George. Happy birthday," she gave him a peck on the cheek as she hugged him.

John grinned at George's grimace, "Don't remind me, Sammie. I'm an old man now."

Sammie just laughed, "Then I'm in trouble. The only girl working in a bar full of old men? What _was_ I thinking?"

Just then a group of Air Force officers walked in and sat down around their usual big table. Sammie grimaced at the three men before taking her notepad and going to take their order.

George walked over to John as Bill went to start being the main attraction of the night other than the liquor: a live piano man. "John, keep an eye on Sammie, that crowd looks rough," George said, eyeing the group with suspicion.

Jack could recognize a few faces in the group as his old teammates and subordinates, "No problem, George."

Sammie tried to ignore the suggestive glances the group of ten gave her as she approached to take their order, "What can I get you guys?"

"You're phone number!" on shouted, only to be laughed at by his friends.

Sammie did her best to be civil by smiling slightly in reply, "No chance of that, … Lieutenant, I only date men who're at least a Lieutenant _Colonel_. Now, what would you guys like?"

"You!" another officer said suggestively.

John noted the rude nature of the group, having heard the whole conversation, and was rather interested when Sammie did what she did next.

Sammie eyed the man who'd made the comment and thought of doing something that would shut them up once and for all. She noted that he was a Captain, and briefly she recognized the possibility that he might know more hand to hand than her father and brother had taught her … but the possibility was slim.

With a sly smirk she said, "All right, Captain. Front and center. You want my number, you gotta fight for it."

The cocky young captain got up from his seat with a grin in response to the egging from his friends, "What? You want me to fight you?"

John watched in fascination as Sammie's face bore a cute little pout that was all lip. "What's the matter, Captain? Afraid to hit a girl?"

The smirk widened, "No, only scar your pretty little face."

Sammie took off her apron and put it on a nearby table. She knew that her actions were causing the men in the bar, both working and drinking, to pay attention – but she also knew that this was a fight she had to take care of herself. Sammie Carter was never one to take anything lying down.

"If you win, Captain," she began as she rolled up her sleeves. Out of the corner of her eye she saw John step out to the front of the bar, ready to defend her. That's why she loved working here: so much protection, but not a one of them would step into it if she didn't tell them to do so. "I'll give you my number and set up a date for next week."

That sounded reasonable to the men at the table, but the unnamed Captain wasn't satisfied, "And if you win?"

There was a flash of something in Sammie's eyes that no one could really identify, but those who worked at the bar knew well – anger. "If I win … you and your buddies have to stop harassing me, forever."

"Agreed."

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A/N: Wanna find out what happens next? Please tell me what you think.  



	2. Cocky Air Force Officers

A/N: Thank you all so much for the reviews. Here's the next part.

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_There was a flash of something in Sammie's eyes that no one could really identify, but those who worked at the bar knew well – anger. "If I win … you and your buddies have to stop harassing me, forever."_

_"Agreed."_

"Good. Now, do you want the first hit, or should I?"

The Captain bowed slightly, "By all means, ladies first."

"Indeed," Sammie said sadistically before she struck out and had the cocky man on his back within thirty seconds.

"Holy shit," John said, casting a look at Bill and George to see what their reactions were. Bill was equally as shocked, but surprisingly, George wasn't.

Sammie whispered something in the man's ear before allowing him to get up. With a smile she asked the shocked AF group, "Now, what would like to drink?"

A Major Hansen answered for the group, "A round of beers, please. Whatever's on tap."

Sammie nodded, putting her apron back on with the precision and skill that came over time, "Got that, John?"

John nodded, getting back behind the bar to get the requested beers, "I got that, Sammie."

"Where'd you learn how to fight like that?" John asked in awe as Sam came up to the bar to get the order of beers.

Sammie smiled playfully, "A girl's gotta have _some_ secrets, John."

"Tell me later?" he asked, a smile playing across his face.

Sammie winked, "After we close."

John nodded: to hear _that_ particular story, he could wait a few hours.

Sammie was kept busy for the next few hours, making her way around the medium sized bar, taking orders from customers to John then going back again. Some thought it strange that the bar had a waitress, but the patrons had accepted Sammie as part of the team (some of the older ones who had been in the service with George or Bill even jokingly flirted with the woman young enough to be their granddaughter – a point that was used on many occasions).

John watched Sammie deal with two of their patrons: Paul and Davy, the former a real estate agent, the latter a Captain in the Navy. When Sammie walked back to John with their usual order in hand, he saw the way Paul's eyes lingered on Sammie's retreating form. It was a very _non_-platonic look.

A few minutes later she returned with a request from Bill, who'd been steadily going through a list of songs George had hand-picked since after Sam had proved she could handle herself. As she left to give Bill his screwdriver, Major Hansen from the group of AF officers walked up to the bar.

"Hey, mister," he said, trying to get John's attention. John heard the sound of the call and immediately tensed up before he turned around. "Oh," the Major said when he saw the face. "Shit."

"Hello, Hansen," John said icily.

"Jack O'Neill," the man said with a smirk and a shake of his head, "Last time I saw you was in an Iraqi prison cell."

John's face grew stony, "Last time I saw you was when you were escaping and not bothering to help _me_ do the same."

Hansen cocked his head to one side, "How long did you end up staying?"

"Six _months_," John spat back. "And I go by John now, not _Jack_."

Jonas Hansen looked utterly sadistic, sitting on the stool by the bar, "What have you been up to, buddy?"

John put the glass he was filling with beer down with a loud smack that caused Sammie to look up worriedly from where she stood beside Bill. "You mean after Sarah left me and took Charlie with her? After I was medically discharged from the Air Force because of what happened to me in that _damned cell_? After all that, Jonas? Huh! I'll tell you what I've been doing: living each day wishing I could just …"

"John!" George said in a calming, CO voice that left no room for argument. "Bobby, come take over the bar for a while."

Bobby, who'd been listening to the conversation from the start from his dark corner of the bar, walked forward and gave Hansen a lethal glare that'd Bobby had used on cadets.

John sent one last glare at Hansen before going into the back room. Sammie watched him go, her heart yearning to comfort him. Decidedly, she took the same steps he had just walked to see if there was something she could do.

Bill stopped playing the piano and walked over to where George and Bobby were staring down Major Hansen. "You and your buddies need to leave - _now_," Bill said hardly.

Jonas looked at all three of them, "And if we don't?"

Bobby smiled sadistically, "I was a Colonel in the Marines when you were still a Cadet in the Air Force. Do you really want to see what we could do to you? After all, our _waitress_ is tougher than your Captain."

Jonas smiled again, "But there's only three of you and ten of us."

Now it was Bill's turn to be Mr. Don't-Mess-With-Us, "I retired from the AF as a Colonel, son. And I was doing special ops when you were still in diapers."

George took up the fight, "All of the employees – save Sammie – are retired military officers, Major. Get out of my bar."

"No," Hansen said, still sure he could take them all.

"HANSEN!" a voice boomed from the doorway. All noise in the bar stopped as the nine AF officers still at the table stood and saluted their base commander. Major Hansen turned around slowly to face the man's wrath.

"General Carter," the young Major said, cockily saluting his CO.

"Take your men and get out of here before I court marshal all of you!" the General barked dangerously.

"Yes, sir," Hansen said, motioning to his nine man posse before walking out of the bar in utmost honor and pride to the on looking passersby.

General Carter shook his head, turning his attention back to the bar, "All right," he said, "Nothing left to see here, everyone get back to their tables," causing the crowd that had built up from the confrontation to dissipate. "Now, George," Carter said, looking at the bar owner, "Where's Sammie?"

George looked around, trying to locate his waitress, but it was Bill who answered, "She's in the back with John. Who are you?" After having just dispelled the Air Force crew, the men at the bar weren't exactly in the mood to deal with a brawl.

"I'm her father, General Jacob Carter," the man said, holding out his hand to the piano man politely.

Bill raised his left eyebrow skillfully, "No wonder she learned to kick a Captain's ass in under a minute."

Jacob raised both his eyebrows in response, "Which one?"

"Which what?" Bill asked, confused.

"Which Captain was it?" the General elaborated.

Bill shrugged, "I wasn't watching."

"It was the one with the scar underneath his right ear," Bobby said, having seen the whole thing from his dark corner of the bar.

Jacob rolled his eyes, "That is something Mitchell would do. Okay, so, can I go say hello to my daughter, or should I wait for them to come out here?"

The three men looked at each other knowingly before saying, "Wait for them," in unison.

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A/N: Sooo? What do you guys think? Oh, and any suggestions or requests are (as always) very welcome. I like knowing what you guys expect/want to see. And I know I changed how long Jack was in the Iraq prison, but that's because I can. SO THERE!  



	3. Necessary Conversations

A/N: YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME! This is for the reviewers! Don't get used to this chapter a day, thing, though. I'm making this up as I go.

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Sammie closed the door to the back room quietly behind her when she came in to check on John. He was standing next to the shelves containing numerous bottles of liquor. His back was turned away from her, and John's head was resting on the wall. 

Sammie heard quiet muttering in a language that sounded similar to Arabic. Slowly she approached him, unsure of how he would react. She made just enough noise so that he would know she was there, but not enough to frighten him into action.

"What do you want, Sammie?" he said in a low voice only a little louder than his Arabic whisperings of moments before.

The woman put her hand tentatively on his shoulder, "To help you."

John snorted, turning toward her, "You don't even know what you're offering, Sammie."

Her clear blue eyes met his dark brown ones with confidence, "Then tell me."

John's eyes held a far off look in them as he said, "Major Hansen was a prisoner with me in Iraq. He found a way to escape after one month and promised to take me with him … he lied."

Sammie's heart clenched as she thought what that meant for the man before her. There was one major thing she knew about him: honor must be upheld above all else – even pride. "How long were you there?" she asked hesitantly.

"Six months." John looked into her eyes, expecting to find pity at the very least. What he saw was nothing that he expected: compassion and love … understanding. "I came back to discover that both my wife and son had committed suicide after hearing the report that I was _presumed_ KIA."

"How old was your son?"

"Ten."

Not knowing anything else to do, the younger woman simply wrapped her arms around him tightly, not letting him go. It took a few moments for John to relax enough in Sammie's arms to lower his head to her shoulder. A few moments after that he just couldn't hold it all in anymore and was sobbing his heart out quietly into her hair and cotton shirt. What surprised him even more than her statements from before was that she didn't pull away once.

"Why are you doing this?" John asked as he pulled away after his tears finally stopped flowing down his face.

Sammie scrunched up her face in a confused expression that John found just absolutely adorable, "Doing what?"

John's face bore an exasperated look, "Being kind to me after what happened. Not showering me with pity or anything like that."

"Why should I? You're still the same man I've worked with for the past two years, John. You still have a good heart, quick wit and amazing kindness that I've never seen in anyone I've ever met before," Sammie prattled off the reasons she had gone over in her mind so many times before. They were the reasons she loved him.

The kiss wasn't meant to happen. Not like that anyway. It was just … she was standing so close; and her skin smelled so faintly of vanilla and strawberries that John's head spun; her arms just felt so good wrapped around him that he couldn't help himself – the gravity drawing their lips together just took over.

A knock on the door pulled them apart from their intimate embrace. Sammie turned toward the door, noticing that whoever was there was being polite enough to not just barge in. She turned back to John, his dark eyes staring at her passionately, hunger evident in them.

She felt her heart beat faster as she starred into his eyes and was confronted with all the emotions he was allowing her to see. She kissed him softly again, "We'll finish this later, John."

John's arms reflexively reached around Sammie's trim waist and pulled her close to him, "When?" he asked, his voice husky.

"How's Tuesday night for you?" she asked as she rested her hands on his muscular shoulders, content to just stay there, staring into his face forever.

"Not soon enough," he whispered in response, letting her go as the person on the other side of the door knocked again, this time more insistent. "You better get that, Sammie."

Sammie opened the door to find a very frightened looking Bobby standing in front of her. "Oh, good, Sammie. I thought your dad was going to tear the place apart waiting for you two to come out."

"My dad?" Sammie asked, confused and yet thrilled at the prospect of seeing her father again after so many years apart. He was still a bit sore over the fact that she had refused to go into the Air Force and opted instead to solely pursue a career as a theoretical astrophysicist working for the Air Force.

At the sound of her voice, Jacob came rushing over, "Sammie!" The usually composed Major General picked up his daughter and swung her around before setting her back on her feet.

While the display of affection was being shared, John walked calmly and composed out of the storage room. Recognition filtered over his face briefly as he realized just _who_ Sammie's father was. John had served under him once … a few years before when they needed someone to go on a suicide mission. Four years ago, right after he got home from Iraq and found his family dead.

"Dad," Sammie grinned, "What are you doing here?"

Jacob smiled warmly at his daughter, his eyes flickering briefly over the other man who'd been in the room with her. _Crap, that could be a problem_, he thought briefly. "What? Can't a father come watch his only daughter graduate with a Ph.D. from college?"

Sammie cocked her head on one side, "How did you know I was graduating early?"

"Mark told me," Sammie gave him an incredulous look that said she clearly expected him to lie better than that. "Okay, fine! George called me, I called Mark and he confirmed it. Since when have you been on better speaking terms with Mark than with me?"

Now Sammie's look became one of annoyance, "Since I turned fifteen and you decided that I should become a nun," she said matter-of-factly.

None of her co-workers could help it: their Sammie – a _nun_? It was just too funny! The laughter started in short snorts and developed into cackles and loud rancorous laughter that none could help. It was only fueled by the shade of red Jacob and Sammie's faces had now become.

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A/N: Cyber money? I did change stuff with Jack's past - ON PURPOSE. I would not like fifty people reviewing and telling me that he only spent four months in Iraq - I know that.  



	4. Interrogated

A/N: Thank you all for the reviews ... although I find it odd that my reviews per chapter have gone down by one each time. Care to help me change that pattern?

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After the humor of the situation had dissipated, Sammie turned to her co-workers and gave them each a scathing glare, "I know stuff about all of you that I _know_ you don't want _anyone_ else knowing. So shut it." 

"Sorry, Sammie," the men said in unison, looking like chastised children.

"It's okay, just don't do it again. Now come on, guys! We've got a bar to run!"

Jacob was lead to a booth with a gin and tonic to wait until the bar closed in three hours. Sammie worked with quick efficiency, telling Bobby and John what drinks were needed and delivering them as quickly. When the bar finally closed down at two in the morning, Jacob helped the five workers clean up. Sammie looked at Bill, silently asking him a question before going into the back room to get something.

When she came back out she made George sit down on one of the newly cleaned bar stools and presented him with a birthday bag.

"This is from all of, George. Happy fifty-third," Sammie said as she stepped back to stand near Bobby, Bill and John to watch their boss open his gift.

George Hammond glared at his four employees, "I told you all specifically not to make a big deal out of this!" the statement was said to the four, but everyone looked at Sammie, who blushed and shrugged.

"I couldn't help myself!" she said, as if it explained everything.

As George opened it, John and Bobby briefly wondered if they should be concerned that she had said it was from all of them – they had _not a clue_ what it was! George pulled out numerous pieces of tissue paper (Sammie had a _slight_ fetish with the stuff) before pulling out a book whose title read: _Managing a Bar: Five Hundred Ways to Get Back at Your Employees_. When he read the title, George couldn't help but burst out laughing, "It's great, Sammie. You never cease to amaze me with the stuff you find!"

Sammie grinned, pleased with herself at finding the perfect gift for her boss – it had been pretty hard to do! "You're welcome, George. Now remember, you're not to use any of these methods of retaliation upon _me_ or Bill. John and Bobby are free game."

"HEY!" the two men she declared as 'free game' said indignantly. She just smiled sweetly back at them.

"Hey, yourself. I read the book before I gave it to him, you nits! There's nothing really bad in there … until you get up into the four hundreds."

The glares they sent her were enough to make any military man squirm and tremble in their big, bulky military issue boots and socks – but Sammie wasn't a man. That was something John had tried very hard to forget, but somehow just couldn't be able to. It was smiles like the one she wore then that made the task impossible.

"Yep, Sammie, you've still got it," Jacob said as he saw the fight drain out of the eyes of the two men.

"Still got what?" John asked, now curious again.

"Still got the ability to wrap every guy she meets around her little finger," Jacob said, grinning openly at the shock and indignation now emanating from his daughter's colleagues. She just winked at him.

* * *

"So, Sammie?" Jacob asked as he drove his daughter back to her house, "What's the deal with you and that bartender, John?" 

Sammie glanced at her father before turning back to the pre-dawn city around her, "Funny. I was about to ask you the same thing, Dad."

"What are you talking about?"

She rolled her eyes, "I'm neither blind nor stupid."

"Neither am I. I _know_ there's something going on between you two – _what is it_?" Jacob pulled the car to a stop at Sammie's apartment complex. He was going to be sleeping on her couch while he was there (helped that she didn't have roommates), leaving Sammie no chance to get out of the conversation.

Sammie sighed in frustration as she got out of the car and opened the door of her ground-floor apartment. "Fine, Dad! You wanna know what's going on between me and John? We've been dating for the past six months. Happy now?"

"Not really," Jacob said, reverting back to over-protective father mode. "He was in black-ops, Sammie. You know what that means – and you know what kind of men come out of black-ops. Are you sure you want to be with a man like _that_? With that many scars and blacked out pages in his record?"

"Mom did." She said it before she knew what she was saying, and after it was out, there was nothing she could do to take it back. Sammie didn't want to. John O'Neill may have been scarred by his years in black-ops, but that didn't mean he wasn't human. He was scarred by the deaths of his wife and son, but that didn't mean he was ready to quit living. He deserved the second chance that Jacob got to live when he'd met the lovely woman named Hannah who had a son named Mark.

"I know," Jacob said quietly. Hannah had died when Sam was fifteen and Mark and Jacob still blamed her husband for it. Jacob thought it was his fault … if only he hadn't let the meeting go late. But Mark had always resented his stepfather, and his mother's death was just the last straw. "Just, be careful, Sammie. I don't want you getting hurt."

Sammie smiled softly at her father, "_Dad_. Trust me, I know what I'm doing. He's a good guy. Give him a chance, I think you'd like him."

_I do like him,_ Jacob thought, thinking about the last time he had met the retired Colonel. _He still knows the value of human life. _"But he's so much older than you!"

Sammie laughed at that, "Is _that_ what you're worried about? His _age_? Dad, he may be thirty-eight, but I don't think that's any reason to condemn him! George is twenty years older than his wife. And Mom was thirteen years younger than you."

Jacob sat down on the sofa in a huff, "It doesn't mean I have to like that my only daughter's in a relationship like that!"

"No, but it _does_ mean you have to live with it."

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A/N: So? Did you like how I explained it? I'm going to a surprise party later today, so the next part should be up on Monday at the latest. 


	5. Boy Meets Family

A/N: Thank you all so much for the reviews! They really do help me develop the story.

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Samantha Carter was a genius by anybody's standards. Most of her teachers adored her because she always put her all into her work and had a passion for physics that they had longed to see in one of their students for so long. She was a prodigy. That was the only reason why she was able to get her Ph.D. in five years - the time it took most to just get a Masters degree: she had the brains, driving force and only needed four hours of sleep per night to be at her best. 

Needless to say her graduation from college was going to be attended by all of her co-workers and her family – they were too proud of her to miss it. So, by the time her date with Jack on Tuesday rolled around Sammie's entire family was sitting in her cramped living room (only cramped when you have seven people squished into a one person apartment). Sammie's half-brother, Mark, was drilling her to no end about her relationship with the bartender, John, as she prepared for her date.

"MARK!" Sammie finally shouted as she pulled her stockings up behind the decoration partition she had set up in her room, "Shut the hell up already! John's a good guy. I _like_ him. That should be enough for you! Hell, even _Dad_ likes him!"

"Yeah, well, don't go comparing me to him anytime soon, Sammie," Mark said, his voice getting hard. "You're the only sister I have, it's my duty to protect you. Remember that Jo fellow."

Sammie stuck her head over the top of the five-foot tall partition, "Mark, that was seven years ago, before Mom died. This is different."

Mark looked at his sister's eyes, seeing the determination there he said in defeat, "Okay, I'll keep my mind open when I meet him. When's he supposed to be here?"

There was a knock on the door. Sammie turned back to her task of pulling up her hose before slipping into her shoes, "That's him now."

Mark eyed her warily as she stepped out from behind the partition, dressed in a light blue dress that flared at the hips and ended at her knees – perfect for dancing. "How do you know, Sammie?"

She smiled as she put on her earrings and walked out of her bedroom, "He's _always_ ten minutes early, Mark."

That was certainly … different. Most guys would be spot on time … or late; but John was _early_? _Strange_, Mark thought as he followed his sister into the living room. Sammie moved to answer the door, but their Uncle Irving got there first.

"Hello," John said warily while still being able to remain polite. "I'm John," he added, holding out the hand that wasn't holding a small bouquet of different colored daisies.

Irving took his hand, "I'm Irving, Sammie's uncle. Please, come in."

John walked in, looking around the room, over the many faces staring at his semi-casual attire in what appeared to be wonder and amazement. John was at that moment convinced that the look Sammie had when she was reading her textbooks or trying a new concoction of his was genetic. There was _no way _this was just a coincidence.

Mark was standing protectively in front of Sammie, effectively blocking John's view of the woman. "Hello," Sammie's older brother said gruffly.

John smiled slightly, "Hi. I'm John. You must be Mark, right?"

"Yeah, I am. How'd you know?"

"Believe it or not, Sammie talks about you a lot. You're the principal at a high school for troubled students, right?"

"That's right," Mark was somewhat impressed that the man knew about him, and that Sammie had spoken about him in the first place.

An arm shot up from behind Mark and waved, "Hi, John."

"Hi, Sammie."

"Care to move, Mark?" Sammie asked, getting a little impatient. "We have reservations to make, you know!"

Jacob watched the interactions with amusement. He knew that the retired Colonel was no match for his stepson's protective streak, but this was too funny to stop. Irving thought the same, having already decided he liked the man, despite his age. Sammie and Jacob had done all they could to reassure the other men in her life that John O'Neill was a good guy – now it was up to them to accept it.

"Reservations? Where?" Mark asked, piping up at the mention of the imminent date involving his sister and this … _man_.

Sammie just grinned at her brother, patting his arm patronizingly as she stepped out from behind him. "Mark, Mark, Mark. You would only try to get the name of the restaurant if you were going to try and sabotage this date. I'm sorry to tell you that you're not going to be doing that."

"I could always just follow you," Mark pointed out logically.

Sammie's grin grew larger and John watched how she handled the situation with care – it was almost as fun as watching her beat the crap out of that Captain Mitchell. "Mark, if you follow us you'll just end up getting lost. This is the first time you've been here, remember? Do you really want to have to stop and ask for directions?"

Mark grumbled something under his breath – Sammie _knew_ how much he hated asking for directions. Of course she'd use it to make him promise not to follow them. "Fine. Have her back by midnight."

Sammie and John gave Mark rather interesting looks. "And how will _you_ know whether he does or not?"

"Jacob'll tell me," Mark said with a shrug.

Jacob cocked his head at his stepson, "No I won't."

"John, since you already know my brother, father and uncle, this is my Aunt Sophie, Uncle Irving's wife, and this is Mark's wife, Jenny and their two children, Alice and Stephan," Sammie said, pointing to each person as she said their names. "Guys, this is John O'Neill, my boyfriend."

Aunt Sophie smiled. She was an old woman with many wrinkles on her face, but John could see that she was once very beautiful and intimidating. "It's very nice to meet you all. I have heard virtually nothing about any of you except Mark," he said with a slight bow of his head.

The woman in question swatted his arm lightly. "Don't lie to them," she said jokingly.

"It's all right, Sammie," her father said, "We can take a joke. Now move it, you two. You've got reservations to keep."

Sammie grinned at her father, giving him a peck on the cheek before taking the daisies from John and putting them in the kitchen. "I'll be back later," Sammie said. "Bye, Uncle Irving, Aunt Sophie Dad, Mark, Jenny, Alice, Stephan," she said as she hugged her family goodbye.

As the pair piled into John's beloved truck, he relaxed visibly. "Wow," he said, smiling at Sammie warmly, "I'm glad _that's_ over."

She smiled back, enjoying the view of his impeccably dressed form. "Oh, no, John. It won't be over until after the graduation."

He groaned as he turned on the engine, "_Now_ you tell me."

* * *

A/N: So? How did I do? How do you think the family interaction was? Sucks to my assmar or do I get a new towel with my initials embossed in gold?  



	6. Just Tell Her

A/N: Well, one good thing came out of me being unable to upload documents onto this site - I've completed writting this story including an epilogue.

* * *

Sammie and John enjoyed a lovely dinner at a quaint little Italian restaurant in the southern Boston area that John lived by. Sammie had first encountered both John and the restaurant when she had been walking down the street one day when she didn't have any classes and was looking for a good coffee shop. 

There he had been, sitting there reading the paper as he ate lunch at the little restaurant, when Sammie had tripped over his extended foot and fallen flat on her face. John, being the gentleman that he was, helped her up; apologized profusely and offered to buy her lunch to make up for the accident. Sammie, poor college student that she was, accepted the offer of a free meal and the two had been friends ever since.

After dinner the couple hit a local club that had excellent dancing music. Okay, so it was a swing club, but considering that Sammie loved to swing dance, John had taken the time to learn during the first year of their friendship and took her there at every available opportunity. It was a lovely tradition.

"Okay, it's only ten and I'm not tired," Sammie said. "I know I should be considering all the crap I have to do at school – but I'm graduating at the end of the week and I really don't care about anything else right now."

John smiled at his girlfriend, "Wanna take a walk?"

Sammie grinned, "I'd love to, John. You always do know how to put me at ease."

The two walked in the spring night air that was filled with the life of Boston. Neither said a word for a long time, just enjoying the company of the other in the intimate time that was the night. Finally, it was John who started to talk, picking up the conversation they had shared a few days before.

"Whenever I went on a mission, I always left a gun for Sarah to defend herself in case someone broke in." Sammie didn't say a thing. She knew by then that if he wanted to tell her the full story he would … and if he didn't, then she'd piece together what she could and not ask any questions. "When I'd been gone for about four months, I think, Charlie found the gun – Sarah had forgotten to put the safety on, I guess. Something like that, anyway."

She didn't need to be told what had happened, she could tell by the look of pain and despair that crossed John's face. Sammie tightened her grip on John's arm, resting her head comfortably on his shoulder as they continued to walk along the road. "Sarah couldn't take the guilt of it all … she shot herself with the same gun a month later."

"What did you do when you got home?" Sammie asked, her voice tentative and shy, wondering if he would answer her question.

John shrugged, putting one of his arms around Sammie's waist and pulling her closer to him, "I went on a mission that was supposed to be suicide, met this _really_ geeky archeologist and learned how to survive again. Then I retired and moved up here."

Sammie kissed his cheek softly, lovingly as they walked on in silence.

A few moments later, Sammie started to speak, knowing that John wanted to know about her family but would never ask. "My mom died when I was sixteen. I told you that, didn't I?" he nodded once and she continued, "My dad and Mark never got along. Mark blamed Dad for everything wrong in his life: his parents not being together; Mom's death; everything. The curse of being a stepfather, I guess.

"Anyway, Mark is ten years older than me, and he's always been overly protective. He never wanted to see me hurt, or anything that could possibly cause me to be aware of anything bad. My Dad, on the other hand, knew that he couldn't protect me forever and taught me how to defend myself. By the time I was eighteen I had a Level Three advanced training in hand to hand."

John whistled appreciatively, "Remind me never to get you mad."

Sammie grinned up at him, "Oh, John, you've got nothin' to worry about – especially with that look you give me whenever I get upset."

John's face bore a look of confusion that was just too cute, "What look?"

Sammie kissed him lovingly. "_That_ look," she said when she pulled away.

"I should remember that," John said with a smirk as they resumed their walk.

"Uncle Irving came to live with Dad and me after Mom died. He's Mom's older brother and has the same protective streak in him that Mark does. But I love them all, and that makes it all worth it."

"Yeah," John said, smiling slightly as he pulled Sammie closer. He looked down at his watch and noticed how late it was, "We better be getting back. It's almost 2330 hours. I don't want to get on your dad's bad side or anything."

Sammie just laughed as they turned around and walked back to John's car.

* * *

"Are you sure?" Jacob asked the woman on the other end. 

"Yes, sir, Dr. McKay actually admitted that there's nothing more he can do about it. If we don't get another scientist in here soon who knows how to handle things like this … Sir, I don't think I need to remind you what could happen."

General Carter swore under his breath, "Thank you, Captain Hanger. I know just the person we can ask."

"If I may, sir. Who?"

"My daughter," Jacob was determined. Sammie was a genius – she was graduating three years early, for Pete's sake! He knew that if anyone could figure it out, she could.

"Sir?" Hanger was a little bit confused about the General's statement. Wouldn't it be biased of him to have his own daughter working for him?

"My daughter is graduating three years early from Harvard with a Ph.D. in theoretical astrophysics, Captain. If anyone can figure it out, she can."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

A/N: Dun dun dun! How many of you suspected that Jacob was heading up the SGC? 


	7. Sammie Learns The Power of a Theory

A/N: I was quite disappointed by the reviews from the last chapter...I miss my reviews sniffs. But I'm updating now instead of waiting for more reviews because I'm starting work on Monday and have an interview tomorrow - I know that sounds strange, but I'm already on the schedule and haven't even been interviewed yet! So silly...so sad for the employer.

Well, I hope this chapter helps explain more about what's going on! Oh, and I messed with the show's timeline a LOT, be warned.

* * *

"Oh, John, you left your Mozart CD over here two weeks ago," Sammie said. 

John frowned, "I was wondering what happened to that. Come on, I'll get it."

The couple walked into the apartment, surprised to find the light still on and Jacob sitting on the couch, looking like the weight of the world was on his shoulders (which it was, in a manner of speaking). "Dad?" Sammie asked, worried that something was wrong.

Jacob glanced up, seeing that John was with his daughter and knowing that O'Neill wouldn't let Sammie go down to Colorado Springs alone. "How would you two like to take a trip to Colorado?"

"Dad? What are you talking about?" Sammie was getting more worried and confused by the second. "I'm graduating in three days."

Jacob's determined eyes met his daughter's, "Then pray that what I'm about to ask you to do doesn't take longer than two. I'm sorry, Sammie, but this is more important than your graduation ceremony."

"Dad, I believe you and all, but everyone came here to see me graduate with honors," Sammie was so confused she had no clue what to do, "What's in Colorado that's more important than my ceremony?"

"NORAD," Jacob said simply, looking at John and seeing the look on his face, Jacob nodded, "We have a problem, and I think you're one of the only people in the world, Sammie, who can handle it."

"I'm going with you," John said.

Jacob nodded, "I know."

"Good."

"Wait a second!" Sammie said, "What's going on here, Dad? John? I'm not going anywhere until I get some answers first."

"Sammie, we can't tell you anything until we're on the plane," Jacob said sadly. "I'm sorry, but you're going to have to go into this thing blind as a bat in daylight."

Sammie glared at her father, "Dad, bats use _sound waves_ to see."

John looked down at his girlfriend (it wasn't that she was short, but he was still half a head taller than she was), "Sammie, it's important. I don't know _what_ it is, but believe me - it's important."

Sammie found only truth in John's eyes and in her father's face. After a long moment she nodded, "Just give me a few minutes to pack."

Jacob let out the breath he didn't know he was holding, "You have ten minutes before we have to leave."

Exactly eight minutes later, Sammie walked back out into the living room dressed in travel clothes and carrying a duffel bag that held a few outfits and other personal items she knew she'd need on the trip. With determination that rivaled the trepidation that she felt in her gut, she nodded and said, "Let's go."

* * *

"Holy crap," Sammie said as she looked over the information her father had just handed her – after signing her soul away on a paper that said if she ever told anyone anything about what she was now reading she'd be charged with treason. "Do you realize how many different theories this proves solely by its existence?" 

Jacob nodded, "Dr. McKay, our science department head told me once, but I wasn't really paying much attention. Sammie, we have a problem with the 'Gate."

The young woman put aside the information she was reading, "What's wrong with it, Dad?"

Jacob scratched his head, trying to put his thoughts into words. "Well, for starters, about two days ago a little girl came through the 'Gate with a team of explorers from Earth. Our CMO thinks she has a bomb in her chest and we can't send her back through the Stargate because … we've kinda 'Gated to a black hole and we can't shut it off."

Sammie's eyes widened, "You _what_!" Jacob opened his mouth to repeat what he had just said, but Sammie's hand came up to stop him, "I _know_ what you said, Dad. Now go bug John, I need to think this over and come up with a solution to save the planet."

Jacob smiled proudly, "If anyone can do it, Sammie, you can."

Sammie nodded, "Out of curiosity, how powerful is the bomb in the little girl's chest?"

"Strong enough to make the whole state of Colorado into a smoking crater."

"Okay, no pressure then," Sammie said with a stiff smile.

"That's right, Sammie, no pressure," Jacob said, patting her shoulder before going off to find out what kind of mischief John was getting into.

* * *

Sammie looked over the blue prints of the Stargate and the past mission reports her father had seen fit to give her to read. It was so amazing she could hardly wrap her mind around the concept of traveling to other worlds. It had been her dream since she was a little girl, and now it was actually possible! 

Something was bothering her, though. There was a report that said something about two people being trapped in Antarctica because the 'Gate had been hit by a … weapon's fire and caused the wormhole to jump from one Earth 'Gate to another. That's what they needed to do: an explosion at such a velocity and trajectory to the 'Gate on their side that would cause it to jump from the black hole planet to another one. It would be risky for whoever planted the bomb, but she was confident it would work.

John walked to where Sammie was sitting, and sat down next to her. "We're going to be landing in a few minutes," he said calmly.

Sammie nodded silently, unable to say a word through her excitement and fear that her plan wouldn't work. Oh, she knew the chance was small that it wouldn't, but she just couldn't get rid of that little tiny bit of doubt.

"You got a plan?" John asked, strapping himself into the seat.

Sammie shook her head, "More like a theory. If it works then there won't be anymore danger from the black hole … but if it doesn't …"

John patted her hand reassuringly, "Your theories are good enough for me, Sammie. It'll work. Have a little faith."

Sammie smirked, "Since when have you been 'Mr. Positive'?"

John shrugged, "Since I met you and found out how smart you are."

Sammie's smirk turned into a grin, "Thank you, John."

"For what?"

"Being you. Coming with me. Believing in me even when I don't believe in myself. Take your pick."

"Always, to all of the above."

Sammie rested her head on John's shoulder, "I just hope this works."

* * *

A/N: Like I said before, I KNOW that Cassie happened at the end of Season One and the black hole thing happened in Season Two - I DON'T CARE. For the sake of this story they happened at the same time. 


	8. Stargate Command

A/N: This one will explain more - and hopefully gain your approval. John's character is a bit OOC, though.

* * *

"General! Thank God you're here!" a man in his early thirties ran up to greet the three people as they got off the plane. 

"What is it, McKay?" Jacob asked, already feeling a headache coming on just by seeing his head scientist.

"The … the … It's getting worse, sir," McKay finally spat out. "Did you bring somebody to help?" he looked beyond the General and saw the two people standing there. The woman looked hot – he'd have to see if he could get a date with her; but he remembered the man … Colonel O'Neill, wasn't it? McKay didn't care for him that much ever since O'Neill had called him a nerd.

"Dr. Rodney McKay, this is my daughter, Dr. Samantha Carter," Jacob said in a hard voice that left McKay no doubt that the general would not take kindly to the scientist flirting with her.

Sammie held out her hand, "It's nice to meet you, Doctor. Although, I'm rather surprised that you couldn't figure it out."

"Figure what out?" McKay asked, surprised by her bluntness.

"How to turn off the Stargate. It's quite simple really … you just need two people willing to put their lives on the line for it."

McKay cocked his head, "Why two?"

Sammie looked at him with disbelieve: _This_ was the man entrusted with the lives of everyone on Earth on a regular basis? "It's a _black hole_, Doctor. You need _two_ people in case _one_ is torn asunder before the job is done."

Jacob smirked – he knew his daughter could figure it out! "Come on, people, we've got to get to the base."

About an hour later Sammie was standing in front of a group of military officers, John and her father flanking her and giving her courage to speak. "Okay, none of you know me, but there's no time for introductions right now. We need two volunteers willing to go down and plant a bomb by the Stargate."

Someone raised their hand, "What's that going to do?"

Sammie smirked, "I was reading the past mission reports and I came across one about two officers trapped in Antarctica when the 'Gate they were coming from was hit by a very large weapon's blast and the wormhole jumped from one 'Gate to another. That's what we want it to do."

At the looks of confusion before her, Sammie turned to the white board beside her. She drew three circles with a line going between two of them. She drew an arrow toward one, "This is our 'Gate, this is the wormhole, and this is the black hole. What we want to do is set a bomb off here that will be strong enough to get the wormhole to jump from this 'Gate to this one." Understanding dawned over the group. Visuals were excellent … now if they could only get Dr. McKay to start using them…

"Now," Jacob said as Sammie turned back to the officers, "Two volunteers to plant the bomb, please."

Five men and two women raised their hands, willing to try their luck with the plan the young woman had come up with. It was pretty simple, some of them wondered why McKay hadn't thought of it – that's what they paid him for, after all.

"Colonel Cromwell and Major Gibson, you're it," Jacob said, picking out two burly looking men. Sammie felt John stiffen next to her at the mention of the first name. She looked at him worriedly and noticed the look of hatred in his eyes.

"Hey," she whispered as the group began to disperse, "You okay?"

John shook his head, "No, but I will be. Don't worry about it, Sammie."

Colonel Cromwell walked over to them, "Jack O'Neill?" he asked in disbelief.

"It's John, now," the retired Colonel said through clenched teeth. Sammie frowned, not liking the emotion in John's voice. She put a comforting hand on his arm and turned to the other Colonel.

"Can we help you?" she asked a little icily.

Cromwell turned to her, "I'm Colonel Frank Cromwell," he said, holding out his hand for her to shake.

Sammie looked down at the hand then back up at Cromwell's face, "Dr. Samantha Carter. What can we do for you?"

"I was actually hoping I could talk to Ja-John if that's okay with you, miss."

"Shouldn't you be gearing up for your mission, Cromwell?" John said, finally turning to face the other man.

Frank nodded, "I wanted to talk to you first, O'Neill. I was hoping we could put what happened behind us."

"Behind us?" John spat, his voice dangerously low. "Cromwell, I don't know about you, but that's _not_ exactly something I'll be putting 'behind me' anytime soon."

Sammie was a little concerned about the anger in John's voice, but wisely kept her mouth shut, waiting for Cromwell's response. "I thought you were dead, O'Neill. I had the rest of the team to look out for and keep alive."

"What ever happened to 'leave _no man_ behind', huh? I was stuck in that damned prison for _six months_, Cromwell!"

"I'm sorry for that, John," Cromwell said, looking truly regretful in Sammie's eyes.

"Too damn late, Frank! It was your fault, and it was Hansen's fault. It's _your_ fault that Sarah and Charlie are dead."

Cromwell was silent for a few seconds, nodding before he said, "I'm sorry you feel that way, John. I really am. This is the last time I may be able to say that. I made a mistake. I hope someday you can forgive me for the part I played in what happened to you."

He left the command tent to go get geared up before he would go with Gibson to planet the bomb. It was only after he left Sammie and John alone in the tent that he turned to his girlfriend and let tears come to his eyes. She held him for a long time, not saying a thing, just holding him tight as he cried.

Sammie prayed to God that her plan would work and John could forget what had happened to him … at least for a little while.

* * *

A/N: Towel monogramed in gold or an explosive from Ba'al? 


	9. Cassandra

A/N: On, Dear Readers! Onward! The End is in sight!

* * *

Frank Cromwell was dead. He died saving Major Gibson and shutting down the Stargate. Sammie's attention turned to her next project: the little girl with a ticking time bomb in her chest. The CMO, Dr. Janet Fraiser, said that it was only a matter of half an hour before it exploded – taking Colorado with it. 

John frowned at General Carter, "There's an abandoned nuclear facility not far from here. It's deep enough underground to minimize the damage."

"Let's go." Jacob said. When Sammie moved to go with them, he shook his head, "_No_, you're not coming with us."

"Dad, if this doesn't work it doesn't matter where I am," Sammie pointed out logically, picking the little girl, Cassandra, up from the stretcher she had collapsed on. "I'm _going_, so you might as well get over it!"

As Jacob, John, Sammie and Cassie made their trip to the nuclear facility John turned to Jacob, "Has she always been this stubborn?"

Jacob glanced at the other man with an indescribable look on his face, "No. When she was a teen it could get _much_ worse."

"I can hear you two, you know!" Sammie said with a glare to her father.

"You were supposed to," Jacob said, turning his attention back to the road as the building came into view. "Here we are."

Sammie picked Cassandra up, "I'll take her."

"Sammie," Jacob started.

"Dad, if she's going to blow up it won't matter if I'm the one who takes her down or not! We only have ten minutes." _But if my guess is right, she'll have a lot longer than that._

Jacob and John both saw Sammie's determination and knew there was nothing they could say to stop her. "Okay," Jacob said sadly. "Get her down there and at the very _least_ you have to close the door between her and you, understand?"

"Yes, _sir_," Sammie said, moving into the elevator.

It would take a full four minutes to get down to the bottom level of the building, and then another two for Sammie to get to a minimum safe distance from Cassandra. One thing that none of them counted on, however, was Cassandra waking up half way down. That is to say, none of them _besides_ Sammie – she had been hoping for it.

John shared a relieved and enraged look when they saw the elevator floor number stay at the basement level and not ascend up toward the top. "Sammie!" John said into the intercom system. For a few long moments there was no answer, but finally, after a, "Damn it, Sammie! Answer me!" the answer came loud and clear.

"I'm here! _We're_ here! The explosion didn't happen."

"Get your butts back up here! _Now_!" Jacob nearly yelled into the intercom. Both men were livid that Sammie had stayed down there … but they were _alive_.

A few minutes later Sammie and Cassandra (very wide awake and cold) arrived at the surface level of the building where Jacob and John were waiting. Sammie looked chagrinned slightly at the glares she was receiving from the two men, but she couldn't keep herself from keeping an arm around the very much alive Cassandra as if it proved her point.

"What happened?" Jacob finally asked.

Sammie smiled down at the young girl as she explained, "Cassie has naquadah in her blood, right? That Goa'uld, Nirti, put it in her and it formed a bomb – only when she was near the Stargate. She only collapsed when she was at the base of the Stargate, and when she woke up half way down, I knew. Just keep her away from Levels 27 through 29 and she'll be fine."

John glared at her half-heartedly, "That was one hell of a risk you took."

Sammie's clear, defiant eyes met his, "You would have done the same, John, and you know it."

"That may be, but that doesn't mean I condone _you_ doing it!" the older man snapped. Sammie raised an eyebrow at him and he looked down, realizing the 'do as I say, not as I do' parent attitude he was exhibiting.

Cassie just watched the interaction silently with wide eyes. These humans were _strange_!

* * *

"So, you're going back to Boston?" Jacob asked his daughter that night as they ate dinner in the commissary within the mountain as John caught up with some old friends named Ferretti and Kowalski. 

Sammie nodded, "Yep. That's where my life is."

Jacob tried again, "Are you sure you don't want to stay and work here? Saving the world every other week?"

Sammie smiled fondly at the thought, "Working for Dr. McKay, who looks at all women like slabs of meat? Or would that be working directly for you, my _father_, and having a whole bunch of people claim that the only reason I'm here is because of you?"

Jacob acknowledged the validity of her claims. The grapevine would go _wild_ if she started to work there. "What does that leave us with? Earth would probably still be being sucked into that damned black hole if you weren't here. Not to mention Cassandra's life would be over."

"The very _rare_ emergency calls in when no one else can figure it out." She let out another small smile at her father, "And I'm thinking of taking Cassandra with me. John's become … attached to her, and I think I could help her adjust to everything."

"Boston's 'fine air' would do her some good?"

"Not to mention it's pretty far from the Stargate so she won't run the risk of being blown up any time soon."

The two ate in companionable silence for a few minutes before one question that had been nagging Sammie since she found out about the Stargate came to mind, "Why did you let John come with me?"

Jacob thought for a few moments before answering his daughter, "He was on the first mission through the Stargate three years ago. It was a suicide mission and … what they found on the other side was amazing."

"That's when Dr. Jackson started setting up relations with the Abydonians? John was on _that_ mission?" This was incredible! John was a real life hero – of not only the United States but also the world. Sammie felt honored to even know him, let alone be allowed to love him and have him love her in return.

Jacob nodded, "Yep, that mission. After the mission he wanted to retire and start his life again … so Boston it was!"

Sammie grinned, "Yeah. Boston it was."

* * *

"Are you sure I can't convince you two to stay any longer?" Jacob asked half-heartedly. He knew that Sammie and John were eager to get back to their bar and their lives. 

Sammie smiled and kissed her father's cheek, "Sorry, Dad, but we've got a bar to get back to. I have to buy a house – or at the very least find a bigger apartment. Cassie's going to be joining me in two weeks. Thanks for the help with that, by the way."

"No problem, kiddo."

John nodded once respectfully to Jacob, "Sir. It was good to see you again."

Jacob smirked, "Yep. We'll probably be seeing more of each other now, though. Take care of Sammie for me, okay?"

"Yes, sir."

Sammie leaned her head on John's shoulder as the flight took off, leaving Colorado Springs, alien incursions and all outer space mysteries behind. They were leaving behind the extraordinary to get back to the ordinary: Saturday night crowds; Sunday morning hangovers; dates; life.

It didn't really matter what lay ahead in their lives. Whether there was marriage there, with three kids and a white picket fence; or a messy break up and lonely nights spent remembering 'the one that got away'. None of it mattered as long as they had the bar.

Fin

* * *

A/N: Don't worry, there's still an epilogue on the way! 


	10. Growing Family

A/N: Congratulations! You are one of the lucky readers who has made it to the end of this story!

* * *

"CARTER JONSON O'NEILL!" the shout rang through the near empty bar cacophonously. The Monday night patrons all looked out from their booths and tables to see why Sammie was yelling for her son this time. 

Carter Jonson (or CJ as he was called by the patrons who had grown to know and love him in his ten years of life) came slowly and timidly out of his hiding space behind the bar where his Uncle Bobby was pouring drinks.

"Yes, Mommy?" he said with a glow of innocence that he'd learned from his father.

Sammie O'Neill put her hands on her hips as she glared at her son, "Carter, I told you to watch your sisters and brother. Can you explain to me why they're in the storage room where I left all four of you, and _why_ when I went in to check on you all you weren't there with them?"

Carter looked down at his feet, putting his hands into his pockets in an act so like his father he knew his mother couldn't stay mad at him for long. "Sorry?"

Sammie felt her resolve crumble. Suddenly an idea for a punishment came to mind and she crossed her arms over her chest and slight bulge beneath her apron. "Okay, you're sorry. That _doesn't_ mean that you're not going to be punished. Now, Daddy has to work here tomorrow and since it's summer time I _was_ going to let you wait here with him until Grandpa Jacob and Cassie's plane gets in tomorrow afternoon." The boy's eyes lit up at the mention of his sister and grandpa's arrival for his eleventh birthday.

Sammie put a hand up to stop his excitement, "_Now_, you get to come to work with me and listen to me drone _on and on_ about theoretical astrophysics."

CJ groaned – he was more like his father when it came to science: astronomy all the way and no long and 'boring' explanations with a whole bunch of words he didn't know, please. What had he done to deserve this?

Sammie smiled slightly as she saw the contrite look on her oldest boy's face, "Now go watch you siblings."

"Yes, ma'am."

Sammie's smile grew into a full-fledged grin as her son trotted back to the storage room to watch his seven-year-old twin sisters Mia and Mae O'Neill and their five-year-old brother, Jacob Marcus O'Neill.

Bobby grinned at her as he slid a drink down to a patron at the end of the bar, "You know, Sammie, you don't have to be so hard on him. I mean, I've listened to you just _studying_ for that damned class – he's going to be asleep within ten minutes."

Sammie sat down across from Bobby, "Well, that's his fault. I know he likes listening to your stories, Bobby, but he's _got_ to learn to take his responsibility seriously. It's hard enough for me right now with John going to Colorado Springs as an advisor once a month, but Carter has to learn. I need his help with the other kids."

Before the conversation could continue, John O'Neill came back from his impromptu food run with five bags of what could only be classified as _stuff_.

He kissed his wife's cheek before he said, "Okay, I've got three double cheeseburgers with loads of pickles and that caramel sauce you like so much; four kid's meals with chicken pieces and juice; one very large burrito stuffed with everything under the sun for Bobby; and food for me. How'd I do?"

Sammie looked through the bags her husband had brought with him. It was a common occurrence for the patrons of _The_ _Hideout_ to find John sent on endless food runs to sate his pregnant wife's hunger. She looked at him with confusion, "Where are the whipped cream and the poppers?"

John groaned – he _knew_ he'd forgotten something! "I'll be right back and go get them."

Sammie grinned, "No, that's okay, I'll go. You go and make sure our son knows how serious I am about making him sit through my lecture tomorrow."

"What'd he do this time?" John asked, already knowing what son she was talking about.

"Ditched baby sitting duty to listen to Bobby tell about the time he saved the ambassador's life in Russia."

John could barely contain his laughter as his wife fetched her purse and left in pursuit of the evasive whipped cream. John turned to Bobby as the other bartender took the bags off his newly cleaned counter and proceeded to clean it again. "There's never a dull day here, is there?"

Bobby raised an eyebrow at the other man, "Would you prefer chasing aliens and getting shot at on a regular basis?"

John shivered; if only Bobby knew what he did when he was 'advising' in Colorado Springs. "I'd most _definitely_ prefer the bar to anything of the sort."

Fin - I mean it this time!

* * *

A/N: Was my epilogue up to par? If you thought so, please send me a review - I'd really like to hear your thoughts about the story overall.  



End file.
